


Reading Between the Lines

by SocratesToaster



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Because I love how extra original Arsène Lupin is, Fluff, Leblanc exists but it is a bookshop in the book district of Tokyo instead, M/M, Ren is a big fan of Maurice Leblanc, Ren is a bookworm and Ryuji is a flat earther dynamic, Ryuji Says Fuck, Slow Burn, bookshop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocratesToaster/pseuds/SocratesToaster
Summary: A dumb literature assignment sends Ryuji in search of a particular novel to be read. Among many bookshelves and the scent of coffee and worn pages, something different from what he could ever expect blooms.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time in *years* that I have written fan fiction! It is also an excuse to engage unapologetically in a chill AU.  
(It is, too, a way for me to practice some proper English writing hehehe)  
Thank you for stopping by and reading! I’ll update the tags and content as I work on this!

Who even read printed books instead of manga on this day and age?

  
Considering the digitalisation of the world, one would think that it would still not be necessary to have to buy a novel, of all things. And with the small allowances some students have, the expenditure for something that would be used once wasn’t really worth it, in his opinion. Not that it really mattered when he voiced said opinion, since he was met with a harsh reprimand and the offhanded comment to buy the book secondhand instead. Fine, then! He would use money to get an underground train ticket to the book district instead!

  
The musty smell of goldened pages made Ryuji’s nose curl into itself. He had barely even walked out of the station’s entrance and the stench was unbearable. Left and right, he could only see old people crawling on their walking sticks, hunched over and taking a good look at the ground while they strolled lazily. He gathered the mean age in that particular part of Tokyo was of eighty years, and that was if he considered it optimistic. Why had he even agreed to come here? Probably because he had no genuine clue of where else to buy some old, crummy novel for a decent price in clearance. Not like he could’ve asked anyone in his class, really, since he knew the efforts were futile. No one would want to lend him a hand, in fear of having it bitten off by such a reknown delinquent. Even if most people had already begun to forget why they weren’t supposed to come anywhere near him.

  
Besides, his phone’s web browser seemed to be really keen on bringing him to this particular area of town. First result was always the most reliable, right?

  
As the youngest human being in kilometres, he reckoned, he brought it to himself to get out of there as soon as possible, before he began to grow wrinkles and sprout white hairs. His sneakers tapped the worn concrete in Jimbocho, rows and rows of used tomes of all kinds lined outside basking in the early summer sun. Among the idle chatter of old friends and elderly couples, fingers would flip through the books on display, and just a glance at the decaying print on the pages made Ryuji slightly weary. Those books were old, damn right. He couldn’t even recognise some of the kanji in them. Were they really expected to read such difficult texts a full year before even thinking about applying to university?! He clicked his tongue, feeling himself grow uneasy. He was hideously out of place in there, the minimum of sixty years separating him from the rest of the folks there weighing on him.

  
His eyes began to dart around as he gritted his teeth in annoyance, desperately searching for a sign that could save him. The further in he began to limp into the backstreets, the smaller and less plastic-y the signs became. More traditional, as the teachers would praise. More prone to crumbling down into dust and mites, he reckoned. The streets became narrower, the colours around him darker. He felt himself losing his breath with the oppressive atmosphere. He feared he would die in this dump of a place.

  
And then, to the tingle of a gentle glass bell in the breeze, the entrance to a shop caught his fleeting attention.

  
His head turned to the source of the noise. The breath of that summer afternoon was playing with the paper slips attached to the end of a wind chime, alone but not lonely. While the paper twirled, the glass clinked, creating the only source of sound in that alley he had snaked into. How the breeze had managed to make its way there, he had no clue. But the red brush strokes on the chime called him by his name.

  
“Are you lost?”

  
Ryuji almost jumped out of his pants with the sudden, notably young voice that broke the spell of the chime. Only now noticing how his nails had been digging into his hands while stuffed into his pockets, probably from the constant feeling of being stared upon while he had gotten further lost into the labyrinth of streets. Come to think of it, he had no idea of how to make it back to the station.

  
His eyes fell to meet the source of the voice, a relaxed face of mild surprise meeting his bewildered one. The young man had to be about his age, if not younger. It was hard to tell, considering a pair of outdated glasses covered most of his face with a thick frame. Even through the messy, unkempt hair and the stupid retro glasses, he could see his eyes clear as the sound of the chime. They were silver, a colour he hadn’t come across in eyes ever before in his life. While distant, they also seemed welcoming for quaint conversation. They kept blinking, expecting an answer from the thrown-off kid that had become a statue for a split second.

  
Oh, right.

  
“N-nah, man, I’m aight,” Ryuji tried to laugh off his disastrous first impression, running his fingers through his hair and pulling on the sleeves of his blazer, “Just got distracted by the chime y’have here, s’all.”

  
“It’s hand made,” the young man replied with a small, happy huff, attributed to the heavy crate of books he was holding in front of him, “We like to change it every year in the shop. An artisan from around here makes them.”

  
“That’s fu- heckin’ great!” Ryuji attempted to laugh, pulling on the hairs at the back of his head to avoid hearing his brain screaming uncontrollably with the situation, “I uh, oughta get goin’, actually.”

  
“That’s too bad,” the boy replied, placing the box on top of a stack of books to begin organising the old paperbacks a little more neatly, “we were about to make some afternoon coffee in the shop, if you’re interested. It’s free for customers.”

  
He felt compelled to run and avoid staying there for longer than necessary, but the invitation had been poised already. It would be rude to decline, even if he hated the hell out of coffee. “I-I can do with some coffee alright.”

  
The delighted response he got back made his heart stop racing in the awkward situation, following the walking mop into the small shop.

  
The walls were stacked to the brim with paperbacks and a handful of cloth-bound books, and while it appeared chaotic, there was also a sense of organisation between the lines (or between the covers, in this case). Everything was where it was meant to be, but only the guy, who Ryuji reckoned was one of the two people working here, knew where things actually were. He didn’t dare even walking too loudly, in fear the floor would creak too loudly and destroy the feeling of time being suspended in that corner of the world. The two voices being exchanged deeper into the shop were, to him, the small conversation between the boy he had just met and who he presumed was the owner of the shop, therefore the boss. Trying to keep himself from tapping his foot uncontrollably, he explored further into the establishment, the faint buzzing of the lights above him accompanying him. He couldn’t see a single manga tome at all. How lame! How was this shop still standing with such outdated stock?

  
Suddenly, a clicking sound was heard, and the scent of roasted coffee began to fill the air within the dark wood shelves. He reached what he presumed was the coffee corner, mysteriously shaped coffee brewers bubbling happily with the heat of the gas flame under them. This corner was the only place where books hadn’t completely taken over the walls, a handful of jars containing coffee beans carefully lined up shoulder to shoulder instead. The smell was heavy, but also welcoming. A strange synergy was crafted when the smell of books was mixed in, somehow. The counter in front of the jars held a handful of tea biscuits, for the lack of coffee treats, and biting off one was the strange boy with thin eyebrows. His voice was low, respectful, and would raise his eyes in curiosity when Ryuji finally made it to the end.

  
“Not the kind of kid I’d expect coming into the shop, Ren,” a deeper voice made Ryuji shiver, turning to the sharper features and smaller, inquisitive eyes of an older man. He was visibly balding, reading glasses perched almost a little too low on his nose, and the way his facial features slanted down gave him a permanently bothered appearance. For some immediate reason, Ryuji didn’t like this man at all.

  
“He seemed lost, Sojiro. The wind chime from Amagi-san brought him here, I think,” finally knowing his name, Ryuji stood a little closer to this Ren person, leaning against the counter. Was he allowed to sit down on any of the stools? He hadn’t bought anything yet, technically.

  
Sojiro sighed, pulling on the worn apron he was wearing to readjust it slightly, “Has he bought anything yet? You know the rules, Ren: you have to stop inviting people in for free coffee.”

  
“Actually,” Ryuji finally found the chance to speak among what felt like a sore reprimand to the poor kid, “I am looking for something, mister.”

  
“Really? You?” Ryuji hoped that the grimace the boss had made hadn’t been on purpose, yet he couldn’t help but feel hurt about it.

  
“Yeah, I am searching for a novel for class,” he tapped his foot as he tried to fish for the small paper he had stuffed in his pocket and had fidgeted with the entire train ride, “somethin’ from... Reese Lebrunch?”

  
“He’s talking about Maurice Leblanc,” Ren interjected, thoroughly amused for some reason, as he filtered out the coffee and poured two black cups of it in rather worn china, “You’re going to be reading Arsène Lupin’s adventures?”

  
Relieved to know he had hit the jackpot, Ryuji sighed, “Yeah, man. I didn’t know he had books written about him, only the anime.”

  
“He was a French book character before that, as a matter of fact,” Ren laughed, pushing the tea biscuit plate closer to Ryuji as a friendly offering, “could be compared to Sherlock Holmes in terms of fame in France. Lupin actually meets Holmes in one of the stories.”

  
“Really? That’s news to me,” Ryuji helped himself to what he prayed was a butter biscuit, breaking it in half with his teeth. He tried to ignore Sojiro’s judging stare as me rolled his eyes, grunting about going to look for an old copy of the book, visibly afflicted by Ryuji’s only source of cultural knowledge being what was shown on the television.

  
“The books are really good, if you’re into mystery novels,” Ren continued, acknowledging that, since Ryuji was actually there to buy something, it would be okay to share some of the coffee with him, “Like in the anime, Arsène manages to escape every single sticky situation he’s thrown in. I admire him a lot.”

  
“I dunno man, I don’t really dig books in general,” Ryuji objected, searching for something to mellow his black coffee. Watching Ren drinking it plain gave him ugly shivers. Then again, Ryuji wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of plain tea, not even matcha to the extent.

  
Ren laughed in disbelief, his eyebrows getting lost under his thick fringe, “Why in the world are you here then, of all places? Book-On probably had copies of the book in Shibuya.”

  
Ryuji poured behind his coffee cup, giving it a go and trying to drink it in one go so as not to appear like the idiot this kid probably thought he was. Of course there would probably be other second-hand shops elsewhere that could stock such apparently well known books. Of course he would’ve never thought about going there instead. He felt his pride collapsing into itself, pretty much at the same pace his mouth was suffering with the brewed drink igniting his throat on fire. The taste was unbearably bitter, and he had to close his eyes tightly to avoid crying. How did that stoic son of a bitch drink this without coughing his lungs out?!

  
A soft thump on the counter was his cue to stop crying into the coffee cup, turning to catch Sojiro having a pursed lip and that glare. Ryuji allowed the cup back on the plate with care as he coughed a little, breathing out to the sight of the cover with the title and author he had been searching for. ‘Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Thief’... The copy of the book was in surprisingly good condition, just some bends and creases towards the edges. Nothing that could ruin the experience, though.

  
“950 yen for it,” Sojiro said dryly, catching Ryuji off guard. Was he expected to cough out a 1000 bill out of nowhere, right there? What kind of antique bookshop charged 950 yen for a two-hundred page book that had been printed God knows when? Looking at the boss felt like starting a staring contest. Was everyone out to get him and laugh at him? So much for free coffee.

  
“I-I can take that, thanks,” he grumbled low, fishing for his wallet in his back, sliding it down his arm to be able to have it on the counter just a second. Had he been paying attention, he would’ve noticed Sojiro flinching to the sight of the dirty bag where they’d eat, or the secretive gaze of Ren, who refused to miss a single detail from that strange punk. He was incredibly fun, compared to all the walking raisins that would otherwise frequent the establishment.

  
Ryuji resented having to give up such a crisp 1000 bill, but there it went, away from his hands, with a meagre, hollow coin dropped in his hands in return. His book was carefully packed in a paper bag by Ren, with the small addition of a more modern bookmark as a little gift to remember where he had bought the novel. Ryuji was getting antsy with these last few steps, already itching to flee from the stern eyes of the old man, though Ren seemed to enjoy taking his time in his part of the job. Finally, with a sticker bearing the name of the shop to close the bag, Ren handed the book over to Ryuji, who hastened to stuff it into his bag and steal one last biscuit in his way out.

  
“Don’t forget to let us know what you thought about the book!,” Sojiro raised his voice in a weak attempt to be friendly, getting a small huff of acknowledgement in reply, and the chime of the door bell as it closed. He sighed heavily once back alone with Ren, pushing back the remaining hair he had and taking another sip of his coffee. “He goes to the same academy as you, doesn’t he?”

  
“He does. Must be in another class, though,” Ren replied as he took off his glasses to wipe them clean of the coffee’s steam, relishing in the fruity afterflavour, “I’m surprised he didn’t take any milk with the coffee, though.”

  
“Punk didn’t want to appear weak, probably.”

~~~

He was lucky he still had just enough battery left to be able to use his phone’s navigator to get out of the streets, not without taking a picture of the front of the shop for good measure. The wind chime kept singing its own little melody to the breeze, glimmering golden as the sun had begun to set. In some way, its song was like a farewell with a hint of a rendezvous. However, Ryuji didn’t intend to pay attention to that, more focused on heading back to the train station and home in the stupidly long journey ahead. There was something about the smirk and stance of this... Ren. Something that had caught his attention. Had he seen him somewhere before? His glasses were so thick, and lord knew he would never be able to stand having so much hair on his face at a time. The dude needed hair clips. Or a clean shave, by defect. Such dense hair could only be a nightmare during the upcoming summer days.

  
He spent most of the train ride home burning up most of his phone battery, if not playing with the paper bag the book had been given to him in. Admittedly, during the duration of his studies, he had only read books that were obligatory by the educational curriculum. Otherwise, only manga lined the shelves of his room, magazines and publications thumbed through to exhaustion. Having a book to read again wasn’t his cup of tea, but he had to admit the sticker closing the paper sleeve was a nice touch. Pulling it open, he brought the book out, the smell of that coffee still lingering within the train carriage. He flicked through the pages during the ride in the underground, the artificial lighting just enough to allow him to begin reading the first handful of paragraphs in the novel. Not like he could do much else with a dead phone. What kind of self-proclaimed legendary thief got caught on the very first chapter, even? What were the remaining pages for?

  
Still, he became absorbed, somehow, in the way the story was told. This Arsène fellow came off as a little too grandiose for his tastes, but one had to admit he was rather smart. The deductions of the case in hand were unpredictable and blatantly obvious at the same time. He could tell, the more he read, why Ren likes the character so much: he was actually a pretty cool guy. And he managed to get it with the ladies with such ease, he had to admit he was a little jealous.

  
He hadn’t turned that many pages, but he had almost missed his stop in a panicked heartbeat. It wasn’t dark outside yet, thanks to the looming summer hours, so the walk through the streets up to his apartment was slightly more relaxed than his escape from the book district. He was still thinking about it while he opened the door, announced his arrival and accompanied his mother during dinner, and nagged him at the back of his mind when he tried to sleep. Bringing back the novel to his hands, he flicked through the pages to find the bookmark. It served a double purpose: both to display an old picture of the shop on the front, with the name of it written in a stylised manner (Leblanc Books, huh? That explained Ren’s laughter), and a backside to jot down the names of the books bought and read there. Smart idea.

  
Even if he didn’t really know when he would ever write down a new title on that bookmark, he still scribbled down his new purchase on it, closing the pages comfortably around it. He wasn’t quite sure as of why he was treating it with so much care. Maybe all he needed to do was sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so sleepy these last couple of days, it's been a little hard for me to actually get going with things hahaha...

It took Ryuji a couple of days before he actually began reading the book on a regular basis.

The only thing really pushing him towards opening the front over again the day after the book shop incident was the deadline set by the contemporary literature class. Like all the previous books he hadn’t found free audiobooks of, most of the time the tome was left to gather dust on his table, among multiple energy drinks and food wrappers left sloppily on any given surface. Not his fault, really; he just didn’t have the time to get into the story as much as he would want to, considering all the video games he had yet to play. The book could wait for another day while he got himself ready to actually begin reading it, and be open to absorbing the story fully.

He’d think about that Ren kid, and how easily and eagerly he’d talk about all those small, seemingly irrelevant facts about the author and his best known work. Most of the time, who had written the book and what he had done with this very boring life was irrelevant to Ryuji. To his regard, writers were just people who had too much free time in their hands, and probably too much money. And people who read those books? More of the same. He wasn’t going to be the one to give in to such pointless hobbies, when modern day Tokyo was filled with all sorts of eye-catching entertainment. Even then, someone of his age was happily working there every other afternoon surrounded by that musty smell, and enjoying it. There had to be some kind of lure, therefore, that he just wasn’t smelling.

And so, he stared at the yellow, curled up pages of the book, worn from use and his thumb flicking through the pages. He knew about his procrastination tendencies (or moreso, all the times faculty had lectured him about the matter), but he didn’t really care. Still, something about that used, smelly book had him constantly glancing over at it whenever he was browsing through his phone before bed, as if it was somehow silently chastising him for ignoring it. How could an inert object even make him feel that way? It’s not like it could talk to him, could it?

He tried looking away and going back to scrolling through social media and the little texts he received on a regular basis, mostly promotions and spam he cared next to nothing about. Nothing wanted to establish a conversation with him. He was being isolated, in some way, through a device created for communication. He sighed, eyes stinging from the screen’s brightness, and finally gave in to the book’s call. He could as well have begun earlier, considering he had less than a week until he would be tested about the novel. And with a groan, he stretched his arms lazily towards the book, got himself comfortable on his mess of a bed, and began to read.

He had to physically stop himself two or three times from reaching out for his phone before his concentration shifted entirely to the book. Now that he had become acquainted with the main character of the book, the following couple of pages were just slightly easier to read. One could tell it was a novel that had not been recently written - some of the words were outdated or had fallen out of use, if not repurposed for new contexts. Still, he pressed on, even if terms like ‘the gaiety of the passengers’ made him snort once or twice. While unaccustomed to more complex narrative, it didn’t take long until he was turning more pages than he was aware of. Arsène really was the best when it came to his own methods for plan executions, wasn’t he? He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed how he was somehow clear and evasive when making fun of his self-proclaimed archenemy, Ganimard, the synergy between them both almost comical. Funny how something written over a century ago was still… enjoyable.

He didn’t even realise at what point through the evening he had fallen asleep, eyelids too heavy to be able to continue. The book fell off his hands and on his chest, and eventually slid to the floor in a silent gasp. The panic of figuring out just how far he had reached would be something he would have to deal with the next morning.

\---

And somehow, the deadline still managed to creep up on him and catch him off-guard. 

He had just one more afternoon before being defeated by the assignment, and he was no short from panicking. Not only did he have to read the damn book, he also had to reflect on it and its themes? Extra points if he made an effort to really look into the author and how his work reflected his thinking. Absolute bullshit, to the point even the internet was struggling to give him more information than book blurbs could when looking up newer editions in online marketplaces. He had come so far already! He couldn’t watch the movie to save his ass this time, and considering the way this Sojiro lad had reacted, he doubted watching the anime could contribute towards his schoolwork. 

His leg bounced rapidly while he slouched forward ruminated on the thought, earning him more than one annoyed look that he just ignored. He had already used up all of his usual information sources that didn’t require too much effort. He groaned to himself, staring through the window of the train carriage as it rocked gently while rolling on the tracks. Not that he could see much through the fingerprint-covered glass, anyway.

All he could really think of was of that Ren, and how his voice got just an octave higher when hearing him pronounce Lupin’s name. He had probably read that particular book at least a dozen times, right? There was a high chance he knew everything up to the colour of Leblanc’s underwear. That’s right. That’s right! He jolted up on his seat suddenly, making one or two people gasp in surprise at the sudden change in posture, his heart bursting with the possibility of actually being able to pass this damn project. He was a fucking genius when he wanted to! He actually had a good set of odds in his favour.

That is, if he was to realise he had arrived at Shinjuku, where he was to change lines towards the acclaimed book district.

He grabbed his bag, making sure it was zipped close before he swung it to his back and bolted out of the train, sneakers clapping giddily as he navigated in a hurry through the endless waves of tired salarymen and confused tourists. He whizzed through the columns plastered with advertisements and tube maps, ignored the smell of food, focused on making it inside the train before it was too late. And while his knees cooperated most of the time as endless gusts of unknown sound opened before him, he was still almost bursting through the before pushing himself and almost landing against the opposite doors. Jackpot! Fuck that noise! Just in time for the train to close in and start moving diligently. He laughed to himself in victory, so pumped up he was unable to keep himself from doing a small dance in the spot before leaning against the door. All he could do now was wait.

\---

The sprint had given him enough adrenaline to be able to hop up the stairs leaving the station more energetically than last time he had come over to this part of town. Everything else was exactly the same, though. Same crowd, same streets, same merchandise on sale. Arriving here felt like being thrown into a time machine, moreso the deeper he progressed into it. More wood covered the walls outside the establishments, fewer people lined the streets. He had to use his phone to find the obscure shop, though, which took a few tries to locate due to the small size, and probably lack of community management it had. Not that he felt like it needed it, really.

The moment he heard that wind chime, he knew he had made it.

It was still the same red one from a couple of days ago, the sound still as refreshing as it had been that first time. Instead of zoning out, though, he went for the door directly, pushing it open and making the small bell on top of it sing on cue. The layout was as unfamiliar as it was strangely homely, the rumour of something boiling becoming the perfect white noise needed for such a cramped space. There was definitely someone inside. He prayed it was the youngest employee.

“Hello?” Ryuji raised his voice slightly, carefully avoiding an unstable pile of paperbacks on top of a shelf, “Anyone home?”

“All the way to the back,” a hushed, seemingly bored voice replied a second later from the depths of the shelves, making Ryuji breathe out enough air to lift up a hot air balloon. Thank god, the old geezer wasn’t around. Making sure his bag stayed right behind him to avoid knocking anything over, and shushing his sneakers as much as possible against the won wooden floor, he continued further in.

A languid figure was thrown over the counter, face hidden behind a thin, seemingly cheap copy of some old narrative. One hand held his face at the side, as if he was about to fall asleep and smack his skull against the counter’s surface, while the other held the pages firmly. The book’s spine was badly cracked, probably to enable a more comfortable handling as it was read through. The eyes of the young man were half-lidded, and everything in his body language screamed ‘extremely slow and boring Wednesday afternoon’. As expected, he was brewing what Ryuji could only guess was his third cup of coffee, keeping some in case any customers came in. Which seemed unlikely, given the panorama in front of him. The eyes behind the obnoxiously large frames rose, opening wide in surprise when he caught sight of who had arrived. His afternoon shift had just become way more interesting.  


“It’s you! I knew you’d come back. Boss and I had been wondering about your _Lebrunch,_” he smiled while placing his own bookmark between the pages, putting the book down while he had an eye roll directed at him.

“Dude, is this how you always greet customers?” Ryuji groaned, not quite fond of being picked on the moment he had arrived.

“Only those that mispronounce the very name of the shop,” he continued with his mischievous demeanour, relishing in watching that weird, crouching blond guy become more exasperated by the second. He was that kind of person, huh?

“No wonder this shop has no one in here, it is just full of your sense of humour,” Ryuji sat on one of the stools in front of the counter while spitting some sarcasm in return. He knew he couldn’t afford to pick up a fight so early in the afternoon, especially when he needed the help of the very kid who was picking on him. “Say, uh… I’ve finished reading the book I got here.”

Ryuji noticed how Ren became infinitely more interested in a split second, as if a switch had been flipped all of a sudden. That was… Weird and endearing, both at the same time.

“Have you? What did you think about it? A masterpiece, right? What was your favourite story out of all in the collection?” Ren was beaming in childish curiosity and enthusiasm, leaning in closer to Ryuji as he spilled out his passion towards him. Ryuji found this even more interesting, almost intimidating. What if he said the wrong thing by accident?

“‘Twas… Way more intense than I thought,” he replied with a small laugh, “Arsène really does have everything planned out beforehand, huh? How does he do it?”

“That’s the best part! Nobody knows how he even begins to craft all his plans,” Ren laughed, taking a quick sip of his coffee (black again?!) before continuing, “He only takes what he dutifully deserves. Everything is one big puzzle for him, down to how he will present himself.”

“You don’t say,” Ryuji was slightly jealous of how Ren just continued speaking nonstop about intricate details and particular passages he had almost forgotten about, making him feel like he hadn’t actually read the damn thing. But further than that, he was jealous of the passion and admiration the young shopkeeper had towards Arsène. The way his words would come out faster from his mouth, how he’d gesticulate energetically when recalling his favourite escapade, how he would push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose when they’d fall a little, a gesture so natural he could tell it was instinctive. Deep down, it made him wish he had something he’d burn passionately for. Did running count as such a thing?

He hadn’t noticed just how much he had been paying close attention to Ren’s mannerisms until he was being stared back upon, making him blink and jolt in place, leg suddenly starting to jitter on the stool.

“Man, y-you do know a lot about this guy, huh?”

“I wouldn’t really have chosen to work at this bookshop were it not for that…” Ren smirked, a break in thought audible in his voice as he composed his next sentence, “...I don’t believe I’ve caught your name.”

“Probably got lost within the information dump you just did,” Ryuji huffed a little, though it was more playful banter than actual annoyance, “Ryuji.”

“Much pleasure then, Ryuji. I haven’t offered you coffee either, don’t go around telling Sojiro,” Ren turned to the bubbling coffee brewer, pouring out a more mellow share of the liquid, a good shot of condensed milk blending and quietening most of the bitterness of the coffee. 

“Your customer service fuckin’ sucks, have I told you that already?” Ryuji replied with a heartier laugh, accepting and mixing the coffee until it was more white than brown. It smelled overwhelmingly sweet. He wasn’t much of a sweet tooth, but he refused to risk his life over another cup of pure black nightmare. 

“Are you going to leave a one-star review online about us, then?” he raised his eyebrow in defiance, earning himself another laugh from Ryuji, who seemed to be more comfortable now.

“Don’t test me, man, I might as well ruin your entire career.”

“Is that only what you came here for?”

“Actually… That isn’t entirely the case,” now that the actual reason behind his visit had come up, he became worried. He could come off as someone taking advantage of this person he barely knew, after all. “Listen, remember how I bought the book for class? I can’t find shit about it online. Since I’ve read the damn thing, I want to add something interesting when I write about it.”

“I can maybe help you out with that,” Ren pretended to act aloof, though Ryuji could immediately see just how eager he was to begin, “I want to make a deal first, though.”

“I’m listenin’, man.”

“Since you did drink your coffee without actually buying anything,” he relished in seeing Ryuji panic and look into the empty cup he had not even realised he had downed during their conversation, “I want you to give another book a go. And actually read it for pleasure this time.”  


“For real?” he couldn’t help but grimace, rolling his eyes and eventually sighing, “You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

“That’s for you to discover, I don’t tell the ways of my tricks,” he hummed in pleasure, having a bit more of his share of fun with this weird blond fellow, “If you take home another one of my recommendations, I will tell you everything you wish to know about Maurice.”

Who was even taking advantage of whom at this point? Ryuji felt like he had been coaxed into an endless cycle of book buying. Though, he had to admit the kid had a damn great taste in literature.

“... Fine, I’ll do it. But you better bring out a short book. I don’t have the attention span for bullshit.”

A sly smile spread through Ren’s face. “Have you brought pen and pencil? Your phone’s notepad can do, if you can type fast enough.”

\---

When Ryuji had come over to the shop, he had expected a quick visit, for some reason. Maybe because he expected, deep down, to be kicked out the moment he raised his true concerns. Or maybe because Sojiro would have not tolerated his only employee being busy with something other than work. Instead, with both boys being alone, Ryuji had been able to experience what true notetaking felt like. He had been furiously typing down all manners of extremely obscure facts and trivia about the Frenchman, punching the enter key for new lines every so often. Ren was a fountain of knowledge to him, quite literally. The kid just wouldn’t stop talking, constantly trampling over his own words as his mind was faster than his tongue. One would think, from his looks, that he was more of a quiet person, but Ryuji had been proven otherwise. And, while he wouldn’t quite admit it to himself yet, but he really liked being the only one getting to see him be that excited.

They both heaved a heavy sigh. Ryuji’s phone was almost dead, and closing time was fast approaching. To his personal cue, Ren began to clean the coffee brewers, pulling the lanyard with the keys hanging from the back wall to himself, and then around his neck. The jingle of the locking keys didn’t even bother breaking into the small talk both of them kept, just single words to avoid an awkward silence. There wasn’t much to clean up in any case, and the moment Ren had picked up the book he had been found with, Ryuji was more than raring to go. That was, until the same book was suddenly right in front of his chest.

“I want you to take this one today,” Ren pushed the book against the other’s chest, as if establishing he was not going to accept no for an answer, “Don’t worry, I’ve read it before, so I don’t mind.”

“D-dude, no!” he interjected while holding the book, equally surprised and flushed at the turn of events, “It’s your book, you were torturing it by bending the spine into itself! I can take any other, I promise.”

He croaked a small noise of surprise, snorting in amusement to his sudden politeness, “Ryuji, I wouldn’t let you borrow something from me unless I was certain you are going to return it. Besides, I can always ask for it back during class break.”

“How’d you- wait, you go to- what the hell, man?!” his complaint was way too loud for what was acceptable for the area as they left the shop, being shushed while Ren turned the keys inside the lock, making sure it was well secured for the night, “You had never told me you go to Shujin!”

“I don’t wear my uniform for work, as you’d expect. What if I spilled something on it? Laundry is expensive,” no matter what Ren said, he became more and more cryptic to Ryuji. He turned to him with a smile, though Ryuji could tell he was also fucking around with him with his demeanour, “Besides, our class had already completed your assignment. Piece of cake.”

He was so infuriating. He had him eating from the palm of his hand from the very beginning. 

“You’re the fucking worst, man.”

“Let me know if you enjoyed my recommendation next time you come around. Or just stop me in the corridor,” he waved at him as they parted ways, completely dodging the bullet that had been shot at him. Once out of earsight, Ryuji cussed quietly as he stomped his way back to the station, book under his arm and a lot of thoughts in his mind. 

As irritating as he was, Ren was also surprisingly fun to be around. Just a little weird to figure out, that was all. Ryuji would have to give him back the book eventually, so they were going to meet again, whether he liked it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kudos and feedback I got with the first chapter almost made me cry in delight, thank you peeps so much! I hope the wait was worth it! More to come as both of them fuck around with each other... Slow and steady wins the race >:^3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy with classes, I'm sorry ; _ ; Reading your comments and seeing your kudos gave me the strength to continue!!!!! Thank you!!!!!  
I have a new mechanical keyboard and it feels pretty dandy to write with it hehehe

Ryuji was no big fan of his leg jittering when something was bothering him. He had a tendency to exteriorise whatever it was he was feeling with every inch of his body, his emotions too strong to have under control sometimes. Anger? Sharp outbursts of loudness he would apologise for afterwards. Joy? Big, goofy smiles that would make his cheeks and jaw ache. Worry? Jitter jitter jitter. These physical manifestations of emotions had gotten him in trouble more often than not, and they were something he wasn’t exactly proud of. They were tell-tale signs of things he didn’t want to say, but he had no option but to get out of his system. Which was why running was so therapeutic for him. 

Ever since he had met this Ren dude and had found out about them sharing something more than a book assignment, his leg had become sentient whenever he was loitering around any exchange station while moving around town. While he was quite the fast runner, it did take a while longer for him to catch up with his own feelings. This was nothing but frustrating, considering he had _a lot_ of feelings. 

At first, he was pissed with the irritating demeanour the guy had towards him, as if he was purposely playing with him to tick him off. His wit was so different from the more straight-foward toilet humour Ryuji had, it really had taken him a while to be able to catch on. Ren loved to act as if it had been his plan from the very beginning, absconding from the clutches of Ryuji figuring out just what he meant at the very last second. He wanted to blame that on the fact that he was such a fucking nerd, and he would be right to some extent. But there was also a childish intent in the way he spoke, as the genuine enjoyment of their conversations shone through. Being able to tell that apart from everything else he said was an art in itself, though.

Ryuji had wanted to see this guy again outside of his job. The nagging worry of getting the kid in trouble had been there constantly in the back of his mind, especially after the boss’s stern stare had been burnt into his brain ever since the first visit. His eyes were constantly darting around, ears sharp to see if he could catch any sounds or movements that could be in any way familiar to him. Any shake of a shoulder, the shifting of weight on long legs, a gentle huff of acknowledgement. Anything that could be enough of a sign that certified the person he was about to approach wasn’t a total stranger by accident. He just wanted to speak to him somewhere that didn’t feel like he was stealing away his time, that was all!

His leg stopped jittering just so he could board the next morning train, trying his best not to groan out of his mind with the constant shoves and gropes from other commuters. So packed it was, he had to pull his bag to his chest instead of to his back, allowing more precious space to be available for salarymen and the odd tourist (who even decided to use public transport this early in the morning unless it was to head off to work?). Being squeezed left and right and up and down and side by side, he struggled to breathe and keep his balance. He hissed with the occasional elbow digging into his ribcage, growing more irritated with the stagnant air becoming more humid with the breathing of other passengers. Was this how he was going to die? Crushed to death by a couple hundred sweaty bodies?

A struggled groan caught his attention. He physically felt his ears perk up with the sound, eyes widening slightly as he turned his head towards the source of the sound, the tell-tale grimace and the dishevelled bed hair clear telling signs of whom it was. Just a couple of bodies away, Ren was fighting his own war with the rest of the city, trying his best not to lose his cool. Ryuji could smell his freakout from a mile away, though. Nobody in Tokyo could ever get used to the nightmare of mornings in public trains, and even cool, ‘I’m too intelligent for this’ Ren wasn’t an exception. Ryuji smiled to himself, meaning his genuine joy showed immediately in his face. His leg could rest easy now.

Considering talking was looked down upon in train carriages, Ryuji had to wait until they both alighted at the same station to be able to whistle and catch up on him, pushing his way through all the other carbon copies of blazers and tartan skirts. The disgruntled gazes shot at him didn’t bother him at all, for he finally managed to reach and pull sharply on the collar of Ren’s blazer just in time. Maybe a little too tightly, considering the choked, sharp grunt he emitted right from his throat.

“Dude, it’s me!” Ryuji chirped, his bad morning mood long gone now that he had someone to talk to, “You know, from the book shop?”

It took Ren a good second to regain his posture, pushing his glasses up his nose and pressing down his blazer’s collar, eventually looking up with a perked up eyebrow, “Lebrunch?”

As if a slap on the face, Ryuji’s face fell to the ground to genuine annoyance, “That ain’t fair, man. ‘Twas only once.”

Ren laughed just the same when he was outside the shop as he did when inside. A contained, throaty laugh, that flowed seamlessly from his usual deep voice. Though his laugh was more often a smirk than not, it somehow felt as if the way his spoke was meant to be a complement to the coffee and atmosphere around him. Something about it caught Ryuji, hypnotising him to listen to whatever Ren talked about, whether it was that morning’s breakfast (undercooked rice, unfortunately) or a fully-fledged thesis on something he had just begun reading. Their dynamic eventually became a synergy as they both allowed their turns in speech, though Ryuji was definitely more prone to interrupting when he believed he had an amazing point to make. Ren didn’t seem to mind, though. He liked the giddy, energetic way he would talk, and how his emotions were recognisable in the blink of an eye.

Ryuji hadn’t even realised they were already on their classroom floor, only doing so when Ren slid the door open and he didn’t recognise the seating arrangement. He still followed in, taking advantage of the last couple of minutes before the bell rang announcing the beginning of the academic day.

“Thanks for letting me follow along, man. It was damn great,” he grinned, pulling the shoulder strap of his bag to loosen it. He tried to ignore the surprised and curious looks of those around him as they acknowledged his presence, shuffling a little on his feet as his friend (were they even friends yet?) unpacked his bag with surprising care. Come to think of it, it felt surprisingly heavy, at least when he looked at it, and while it was rather wide in its contents, it didn’t move to its sides due to the weight. There was something heavy in it, but he couldn’t really tell what it was.

“Hopefully it made the last stretch of the commute that much more enjoyable for you,” Ren pulled off his glasses to wipe them clean with the end of his shirt, though that only really served to move the dust stuck on the lenses around, “Have you begun reading the other book I’ve let you borrow?”

In a knee-jerk reaction, Ryuji lied, much as if he was being questioned in the classroom, “O-of course, I’ve almost finished it!”

“... So, you like it?”

He hadn’t even noticed the awkward silence between them while he awaited further feedback on it. Ryuji had but read the dust jacket of the book. “H-hell yeah I do! I might just need an extra day or two to finish it, ‘sall.”

A tell-tale quirk of eyebrows phased through Ren’s face, who just smirked slightly, “Alright, hopefully you’ll be able to return it tomorrow no problem, right?”

“Yeah man, no problem at all man!” he bellowed a struggled laugh as his feet began to drag him out of the classroom, just in time to hear the morning bell chime, “Tomorrow it is, man!”

Ren limited himself to replying with a small nod, careful and gentle with his bag as he placed it to the side of his table, leaving it open enough to be able to see the zipper, but not to be able to catch what was inside. Ryuji could swear over his dead body that he caught a small shift in the canvas bag before he left, even while he was being shooed away by members of faculty. Typical Ryuji, loitering wherever he was explicitly not allowed to. No matter how many times they’d tell him to be wherever he was supposed to be at the time he was supposed to be at, more often than not he was looking for dust specks floating in the air.

\---

He was too much of a chicken to even attempt to ask where he could go after school hours to focus solely on reading a novel.

The library, albeit being the designated area for that kind of activities, was a place he seldom went to unless he was being forced with a dagger splitting his spine in two. It was way too quiet for his wandering thoughts, and he knew someone would find a way to tell him off for having his leg shaking the entire floor. Even if it was a room dedicated to not interacting with anyone at all. Somehow, the thick air and tough breathing from concentrated students made him feel unwelcome, as if his skull was too thick to even begin to realise where he was. Weird how the nerds had claimed the area for themselves. As if they didn’t have the entire damn building for themselves already.

The courtyards were always full of people, and the voices of chatter and shrill laughter of teenage girls drilled his brain into an inintelligible mush. As much as a lack of white noise bothered him, conversations weren’t that great to be around either. And even if he was lucky enough to find a place for himself somewhere slightly hidden away, God forbid, there was a big chance a slobbery couple had already taken over for some disgusting kind of makeout. As if hetero couples didn’t have enough spaces to share saliva at.

The only other place he could think of was the school roof. True, it was out of bounds for most of the students, and there was an exponential amount of posters plastered around the corridors leading there sharing crisis phone numbers, giving the stairway an eerie feeling to it. But it was also the only place with a decent amount of noise, not too noisy and not too quiet, and the afternoon sunlight was perfect for being outside in the after school hours. Most people were too cowardly to even think about going there, but not Ryuji! Ryuji was brave and amazing. He could deal with the consequences later, if any. 

He slipped under the radar of most members of faculty, waiting for the perfect moment to tiptoe up and force the lock everyone knew wasn’t even locked. The door always creaked loudly as a final warning for any trespassers, but he ignored the noise in his usual fashion. Rules were meant to be broken if no-one bothered to implement them properly. He did still make sure to close the door behind him slowly, heaving a heavy sigh when finally out of the most immediate danger.

The roof had rubbish nobody wanted that was too old to be repurposed, but with a quality good enough that would be a waste of money to just get rid of. Multiple chairs and tables with scribbles and love umbrellas lay left and right, some of them with so many chewing gums stuck that they were biohazards. Nobody had come to get rid of things in a very long time, and it turned out this could as well be the hideout of a bunch of smokers, judging by the cigarette butts. They were out of the way with a couple of swift kicks from Ryuji’s worn trainers, this roof being his kingdom now. He slid down against one of the walls containing ventilation and air conditioning contraptions, sighing in relief with his successful mission. He was the sovereign leader of this square of turf as long as he was up there. It made him feel powerful. 

His hands left to feel for his bag, and eventually the novel, pulling it out gingerly and examining the cover closely. Very psychedelic, bright colours used indiscriminately for the cover as if a comic book it was. He could count at least three rockets badly photoshopped for more intensity. It had been the first day of the graphic designer that had made this, probably. It was definitely short, as promised, though he still wasn’t sure as to why he had been lent a guide book. Nonetheless, he opened it, intrigued as to why Ren would want to read about instructions towards hitchhiking space of all things. He sighed, thumbed the left-hand page, and began to read.

\---

It was only by the loud groan of the door opening that he finally raised his eyes from the pages. It had definitely become noticeably darker around him, though that was also because he had been hiding under the tables for protection in case of unexpected rains or raids. He curled into himself in expectation, holding his breath hard as his ears tingled while trying to catch any tell-tale noises that could alert him of who it was. He heard the shuffle of a bag, and the tapping of something light and agile. More fumbling about. A distinct, irritated sound of meowing. Meowing. Meowing?! Ryuji contorted himself trying to see what was going on just outside his sight range, kind words dancing in the ir. He had heard that voice before. Ryuji’s heart began to race and threat to come out of his mouth, his hands clumsy while he pulled his bag and book close to him. Hopefully the voice was not that of a serial killer in disguise.

Squatting with his back to Ryuji, a similar blazer to his was too busy with himself to notice the small rolling of loose bits of concrete on the floor, what felt like cooing coming from his mouth. Ryuji could tell whom those shoulders belonged to from quite a distance, finally allowing himself to let go of the breath stuck inside him. Ryuji cleared his throat quietly, though the noise was apparently sudden enough to cause the figure in front of him to jump in place, lose his balance and fall to their bum, all within the span of a split second. The head turned in a snap, eyes wide in fright and the realisation that he had been caught. No other than the bookshop keeper he had met a couple of weeks ago with that distinct eye colour. He was unmistakable. 

“Hey,” Ryuji finally said, seemingly oblivious to the almost heart attack Ren was nursing in his chest. Before he could ask what he was doing up here like a bad boy, the small paws of a cat peeked from behind the other boy, a pair of feline eyes blinking expectantly in curiosity. 

The languid, careless movements typical to the shoulders of a cat appeared, exhibiting itself with great pride. Its tail moved slowly with its steps, pressing its very well kept black coat against Ren’s leg. The golden hour made its eyes glow in a luxurious hue, and one could tell the animal held itself with great esteem. It seemed to be greatly fond of Ren, who sighed as he petted the cat and earned himself a delighted purr. His fingers sank themselves into the sleek fur, as if the action was a way to ground himself in times of discomfort. 

Ryuji snorted. He could not keep the chortling to himself. “Dude? You’ve brought your cat to school?” He approached the pair quite more comfortably, squatting next to Ren and bringing his fingers close to the little creature, “What’s her name?”

“His name is Morgana,” Ren rolled his eyes, while newly named Morgana hissed as if he had somehow understood he had been misgendered, “And he has been whining for the whole afternoon. Needed to stretch his legs, it seems.”

“You don’t have a shift this afternoon at the shop?” Ryuji objected, wiggling his fingers in front of Morgana as an attempt to play with him, though the way the cat ignored him in favour of more petting from Ren made him pout.

“Had some stuff to do at school. Boss doesn’t want Morgana around the books either, in case any of the customers are allergic,” he crossed his legs, pulling out a bowl and a small carton of refrigerated milk from his bag. The white, sweet liquid poured out in a small hum, it being lapped happily by Morgana the moment Ren’s hand was far away enough not to be bitten away. “Have you been reading up here?”

Ryuji made a choked sound of surprise, gritting his teeth. “How do you know? Could've come up for a smoke, y’know.”

“You don’t smell like cigarettes, though, you’re too much of a coward to try them,” Ren smirked, making Ryuji heat up in rage fast, “You’ve also been spotted lingering around the school grounds looking quite lost and uncomfortable. Judging by the conversation we had had this morning, you were worried you hadn’t even begun reading the book I’ve let you borrow and though I’d come to ask for it back and question you about it.” (How in the Lord’s name-) “So you came up here for some quiet, and read until I arrived.”

Ryuji was so ready to blow his head up. “You need to stop reading detective stories. It ain’t even funny.”

“I take my deductions are correct,” he looked up from the milk bowl with a picaresque smile, and something in that gaze stirred Ryuji up while he also became really fucking mad.

Knowing himself and how easily he could break his nose with that attitude of his, Ryuji decided to just let it slide as they both watched the cat eat, then stretch itself and begin licking itself clean in multiple, further questionable areas. It became awkward quickly. Neither of them really had much to say - what did they even have in common? The view of a cat licking its groin and giving a spectacle to remember? Ryuji became fidgety. 

“...I did begin reading the book. It’s… pretty cool.” he muttered eventually, breaking through the hardening composure of the young man beside him. “I didn’t think books could be… could have such a sense of humour, you know?”

“Science fiction is more your thing, right?” Ren could tell Ryuji was trying his best in giving arguments for discussion, and he was happy to guide him along, “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is very unique. Thought it’d be more your type of book.”

“I like the logic of it. How it just doesn’t make sense sometimes. The books we are made to read in class are always so boring.”

“There are as many books are there are people in this world. It’s all about finding that book that speaks to you.” Ren scratched the cat’s chin, getting Morgana to close his eyes in pleasure with all the free petting he was getting, “It’s a bit like finding love. Or the solution to a good mystery. Sometimes the key just appears out of nowhere when you least expect it.”

“Man, that’s _deep._” he held onto his knees while looking sideways in Ren direction, drinking every word he said. How was it that he always knew what to say? It felt like he had a script he followed to the last full stop. “You really, _really_ have to stop reading so much.”

Ren laughed under his breath. God, that laughter that somehow reminded him of the glass wind chime in front of the book shop’s door. His chaotic curls hid his eyes for the most part, but Ryuji could still catch the edges of his eyes crinkling as his smile broadened. “It's kind of my job, you know? How else would I be able to tend to customers?”

“That’s right, your target audience is people with one foot in the grave.” he stuck his tongue out while poking fun, though eventually he allowed himself to laugh. Morgana didn’t seem to understand what the sudden laughter was about, requesting attention again with loud meowing. His bowl was empty now too, a sign of their time being done.

“Now, if you have stopped picking on all the lovely people who frequent the shop I work at,” Ren raised his voice in a dramatic manner, making Ryuji laugh again while both of them got on their feet, “I’m afraid I must be leaving.”

“So soon? I still need to grow ten more grey hairs from listening to you,” Ryuji pretended to complain, though he was quick to follow as soon as Morgana had jumped back into the bag and was secured under Ren’s arm. 

“You might want to come over tomorrow to the shop then. Boss will be out. If it doesn’t bore you to death, I’d appreciate having some company.” 

“Only if we do something actually fun afterwards.”

“You hurt my feelings.”

“You need a life.”

“What is your plan then, Mister Gatsby?” Ren snorted in amusement, enjoying the bickering.

“How about some ramen? Or is that commoner food for you, Sir Ren?” Ryuji teased back, even if the reference flew right over his head.

“Call me Mister Lupin, if we’re going down that road.”

“How predictable.”

“How rude.”

“So yes or no?”

“It’ll be my pleasure, Ryuji.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort out your feelings Ryuji ffs


End file.
